“Who is he?” I said again with less patience this time. “It is Max,” she finally answered. Max who? I thought to my self for a short while, an... then I got it. Max Thomas, the owner of the school our kids went to.“Max Thomas? The man from school?” I said, looking at her in disbelief. She said yes without meeting my gaze at first. “How come him?” I asked. “He asked,” she replied carefully. “What made you say yes? Just him asking?” I continued. “Don't be like that,” she said rolling her eyes at me. "I think we understand each other, slave slut," said Kima as she flickedmy blonde hair with her hand before walking away.I tried to remind myself that the food here probably hadn't been kepttoo long. It was probably only leftovers from yesterday, but even so, itwas food waste in highly unsanitary conditions in a hot environment.Dare I risk it? I could imagine myself curled up for several days in thestraw with food poisoning. And yet, the girls around here seemed healthyenough, and this had to. More

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